Twisted Worlds
by flyingpandies
Summary: Fantasy!AU: Alfred, the school's outcast, wishes he could live inside his books to escape the real world he has come to hate. He soon learns to be careful what you wish for when he gets sucked into a book and enters the magic world! Now living in a world where he is the "savior", Alfred thinks that things couldn't get any better. (Full summary inside because of character limits)


Summary: Fanasty!AU: Alfred, the school's outcast, wishes he could live inside his books to escape the real world he has come to hate. He soon learns to be careful what you wish for when he gets sucked into a book and enters the magic world! Now living in a world where he is the "savior", Alfred thinks that things couldn't get any better. But he must remember that heroes must always face the twist and turns of a story before they can have their happy ending.

A/N: Since I posted this on tumblr, I figured that I should post this on here, too! I know, the last thing I should be doing is writing another poopy story, but this idea wouldn't leave me alone until I wrote something for it. I may or may not continue this, but if you want me to, just shoot me a review, pm, some other form of contact that would be really creepy considering I don't have any other contact stuff.

As always, feel free to correct me if I made any mistakes so I can fix it or offer me any advice if you feel the need to! :3

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, this idea is unoriginal, and poopy writing. Hope you enjoy uwu

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Alfred was never the most popular boy out there. He was always too chubby, too awkward, too short. The braces and large, thick-framed glasses didn't help him either. He was the overall definition of a dork, nerd, geek, o_utcast_.

Maybe that was why he was always the center of every bully's attention.

When he would casually stroll down to the hallway to go to his next class, books clutched tightly in hand, he would expect to either be tripped, insulted or have said books smacked out of his hand. Sometimes all three. He was always picked last to be on somebody's team during gym; when he actually participated, that is. In class, when answering questions the teachers asked with ease, he would hear the judging murmurs of "teacher's pet" or "know it all".

Alfred never claimed to be a genius, but he did know he knew a lot. It was all he had to fall back on. While students would spend their weekends hanging out with their friends, going out to parties to get wasted, or with their boyfriends or girlfriends, Alfred would spend his weekend alone, engaged in some type of book that would involve astronomy, history or his favorite, fantasy worlds. It wasn't like he had any friends anyway. People avoided him like the plague. He was deemed unpretty by his own peers, so that was the consequence.

Rejection.

Alfred tried hard at first; he really did. He would try to make small talk with anybody he could even though it would all end the same way- being ignored or laughed at for the attempt. He took to dressing nicer, hoping that would get the attention- good attention- drawn toward him, but they all seemed to notice his stomach more than what he wore. He's tried to lose weight, diets and exercising alike would go down the drain within a week, though. He could never stay motivated for too long.

He tried, tried so hard to please the people around him that won't even matter a few years from now when they were all on their own in college. Eventually, Alfred slowly began to give up. He began hiding behind too big sweaters to cover as much of his body as possible. He began secluding himself and avoided talking in anyway; this included answering questions during school. He would ignore the teacher when he was called on and went as far as to skipping class every chance he could. He began covering his face more, trying to hide the ugly braces that lined his teeth and the glasses that were too large for his chubby face.

And as much as Alfred didn't want to admit it; he was hurting. He was wearing down mentally. The insults would control his thoughts all day and all night, replaying over and over and over again until they stuck to his brain like an annoying leech. The way he was always alone, despite being surrounded by so many people, hurt. What exactly did he do to deserve all of the hate he received on a daily basis? Be himself, that's what. All because of his appearance. It frustrated the blond to no end.

It wasn't his fault that he looked the way he did with his stupid too bright blue eyes and unruly hair with that annoying little cowlick that defied gravity. It wasn't his fault that he had to wear glasses or braces or that he was short- even shorter than most girls at his school- considering he was a junior in high school . He didn't control that, but yet everybody made it seem like he did.

He wishes that he could go back in time- fifth grade was a good year for him. Just before middle school. He remembers nothing but happiness that year, always running around with boundless energy as he dragged his slightly older brother, Matthew around the playground during recess. He was always the talkative kid in class, having to be hushed by the teacher several times until he was moved to another desk (not that that stopped him). The kids circled around him as he told story after story about how a hero would save princes and princesses alike from the clutches of the evil wizard (him being the hero, of course, while the students were the princes and princesses and the teacher was the wizard). The kids didn't seem to care about his looks then, even though he didn't have glasses or braces during that time. They liked him because of his personality; something that didn't really seem to matter the older you got. He wishes- so desperately wishes- he could go back.

But he knows he can't.

He's stuck in the present- trapped in the eyes of a stranger who couldn't even make one friend. What happened to the old him? Oh, he knows what happened. Middle school happened. Those awkward years where boys and girls would begin exploring what it was like to be in relationships, hit puberty, and began to have tainted minds from sex-ed classes. While the other boys voices began to crack and deepen when they hit the first stages of growing up, Alfred's voice always remained the same as it has before. While the other boys began to talk about girlfriends and kissing, Alfred always shied away; girls never really interested him. While the other boys had their happy families to go home to, Alfred's mother and father fought and fought until they had a divorce, which left Alfred with his workaholic father who was barely ever home and his beloved brother with their mother all the way in Canada.

That's when he began eating more, he remembers. He always had that little bit of baby chub that clung to him cutely, but it soon turned into full on fat. By the time Alfred was in 8th grade, he weighed about 170. While he had lost some weight since then (but not enough to be "skinny"), he would always hear the snide comments and giggles about his weight in the halls, in the yard at recess, even in class, echoing through his head. Whenever he would talk to someone, or try to, he would hear the teasing remarks of the boys, "Why're you talkin' to me, fatty? Shouldn't you be shoving a burger in your mouth?" or the insulting giggles from the girls, "Ew! He's talking to you! Don't touch him or you'll look like him, too!"

That's when he began to stop talking as much. He never had a reason to at home; his father was always out on a business trip and his brother was no longer there to keep him company. He began reading for hours and hours, anything and everything, getting sucked into the wonderful world of pictures and words.

Books were wonderful things, in Alfred's opinion. They gave him the opportunity to escape from the world that he so desperately wanted to get away from. They made him happy as his imagination plundged into the swirling world of mystical beings and magical powers. If only he could jump into one and live there. The protagonist always wins in the end of those books. Always had a happy ending, something Alfred has been wishing for since his life turned to shit.

The sound of pages turning was the only noise that filled the too quiet room in the too quiet house.

Yes, living in a book sounded nice... Too bad it will never happen.

"Ah... Achoo!" Alfred suddenly sneezed, turning his head around just in time before his book got ruined with his spit. He sniffed and rubbed his nose lightly with his sleeve. Huh, he must be getting a cold or something. Great. Something else to ruin his all ready crappy week.

What Alfred missed as he sneezed, however, was a pair of white wings connected to the back of a tiny man flapping rapidly as he left the room in a rush. A trail of a sparkles floated behind him as he flew away.

The tiny man came to a halt once he was safely around the corner, resting against the wall as he caught his breath. A small hand came up to fix the mop of brown hair that got mussed up in the wind while the other reached into his pocket and pulled out a golden wand with a star planted on top. It shimmered slightly before a person with huge eyebrows and an irritated scowl appeared on it.

"Well?" He asked impatiently.

A triumphant grin slid across the brunet's face as he exclaimed.

"I did it! I found him! There is hope for us yet!"


End file.
